


Smoke

by trainmaker



Series: theatre kids au [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Kissing, M/M, Shotgunning, Smoking, Theatre, Tubbo POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29647983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trainmaker/pseuds/trainmaker
Summary: tubbo is a theatre kidranboo is stage crewcan i make it any more obvious?this au is loosely inspired by high tops by del water gap
Relationships: Ranboo/Toby Smith | Tubbo
Series: theatre kids au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186049
Comments: 44
Kudos: 304





	Smoke

Tubbo has the smudged remainders of stage makeup on his face. There's eyeliner streaked across his cheek from where he'd rubbed it, and the collar of his white shirt is loose and open. His breath ghosts into the October night as he stands on the threshold of the side-door.

It's the end of the Fall show, last night, the final curtain drawn. Mrs Puffy has kindly turned a blind eye to the plastic bottles the cast have passed around and let them have the run of the auditorium. Tubbo's had his fair share of throat-burning rum. It's the kind of thing that makes Tubbo love theatre, and he drinks in the cold eagerly. It's a shock to the lightning-feeling coursing through him and he takes a minute to absorb the night. The sky is that cloudy midnight purple, black trees still clinging to their leaves silhouetted against it. He's not alone.

Sitting a few steps down is Ranboo. He's hunched over and dressed in the sombre blacks of stage-crew. There's a joint hanging from his pale fingers, just the glow of it illuminating his features. Smoke runs up into the black sky and Tubbo takes a step down, letting the door clang shut behind him.

"Did you put the door-jam in?" He asks, voice deep and round. 

"No, should I have?" Tubbo asks and makes the last few steps to meet him. He sits down, noticing how his legs measure up against the Ranboo's. They don't. 

There's silence as he takes a drag, and when he finally speaks, smoke billows out of his mouth. "Yeah, probably. You're stuck out here until someone else comes along." He doesn't seem as annoyed as he should be. Tubbo finds he isn't either. 

"Is that how you got stuck here?" Tubbo watches him turn the joint over from hand to hand. The bud is red and glowing and Tubbo leans a little closer to steal some warmth. 

"Mhm." And then he's passing Tubbo the joint. "I thought you were gonna let me in but turns out you wanted to join me in solitary." He smiles, and Tubbo returns it.

It shouldn't be the first time he's held one, but it is. He's not sure how four years of cast parties have failed him, but he can only mull it over so long before Ranboo's gaze turns confused.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to assume." His hand fumbles over Tubbo's to take it back and Tubbo's protests die in his throat. His hand is so, so warm. "Just thought, why else would you be out here with me?" The laugh that follows is self-deprecating. He's only met Ranboo in glimpses, thanking him in passing after rehearsal or passing scripts. It was that age-old divide between cast and crew that Tubbo struggled to hurdle even now. He didn't want to. He wanted to listen to that warm, seldom-heard voice of his. He wanted to watch him smoke all night.

"Oh," Tubbo watches the curve of his lips around the joint, how his lashes brush his cheeks as he inhales. There are so many reasons he could be out here, his mind supplies them a mile a minute. "Can you show me how?" 

Ranboo blows the smoke away and Tubbo wants to chase the sweet smell. "I mean sure, sure. There's not much to it." He doesn't pass it this time, just scoots closer and holds the joint by Tubbo's face. "When you breathe in, just hold it a little." It sounds so easy, so Tubbo takes it between his lips and-

He splutters, a chest full of hot, sweet smoke. It's acrid and claustrophobic and not at all how he'd thought it would be. Ranboo's face is drawn with concern and he's sheltering the joint with his hand. "Oh, geez."

"Not as cool when I do it." Tubbo rasps.

"You think I look cool?" It's that open, high, incredulity that draws Tubbo in. He lets his eyes flicker over Ranboo, limbs splayed lazily across the cement steps. The shirt that stretches across his back stamped with 'CREW'. The way his hair skims his eyes. 

"Yeah." He grins. "Totally." Ranboo matches his smile and brings the joint back to his lips. Tubbo registers that his lips had just touched that same rolling paper. Warmth pools in his stomach. "Is that it, am I a lost cause?" 

The smoke rises contemplatively and Ranboo tilts his head non-commitally. "I mean. We could," His tongue darts out across his bottom lip. "Shot-gun?"

"What?" Tubbo asks.

Ranboo's cheeks are pink, Tubbo wonders if its the cold or the high or something else. "It's like. You breath my smoke."

"I've  _ been _ breathing your smoke."

"Well, yeah. But like," He shifts closer along the step until their thighs are touching. He's emanating warmth. "Close your eyes."

Tubbo does as he's told and tries not to startle when Ranboo's hand cups his face, a thumb on his chin angling his jaw. There's the quiet drag of the joint and then, "Breath in." Tubbo sucks in a lungful of sweet smoke, secondhand and mild. His eyes snap open and Ranboo is right there, close enough to share his air. When their eyes meet, he draws back, fiddling with the rolling paper silently. Tubbo can't mistake the want in his eyes when they flick up to his. 

"Did I do alright?" Tubbo asks. They're still close, Ranboo dwarfing him even sitting down. 

"Yeah. Perfect."

"I want to try again." 

Ranboo nods and this time Tubbo doesn't close his eyes. He watches the careful inhale and lets Ranboo tilt his head until their open mouths are mirrored. And then there's the smoke and it tastes like October. Like fallen leaves and candy. He doesn't want to pull away, but Ranboo's hand slides from his face again. "You like that?" His voice is heavy and his eyes are dark. 

"Yeah," Tubbo breathes. "One more time."

"Sure." And when Ranboo leans in this time, he doesn't bring the joint to his lips. It sits in his hand, forgotten. Tubbo chases the taste of the smoke on his lips, sighing happily as they meet in the middle. It's more gentle than he had expected. Ranboo's long fingers span his cheek and he leans into the touch, pulling away to take in the heavy-lidded stare fixed on him. 

"You forgot to-" He murmurs.

"Nah. No, I didn't." Ranboo says against his lips again. There's no pretence of shot-gunning. Their noses brush and Tubbo knows his mouth tastes like cheap rum and Halloween candy. Ranboo doesn't seem to mind. His hand has migrated to the hair at his nape, tangling in it. 

The side-door opens abruptly and they break apart. Tubbo wipes his wet mouth on his sleeve, squinting up at the bright light pouring out. Ranboo shuffles a little, putting space between them. 

"Oi. We're getting pizza. You vegan or anything?" Tubbo wants to tell them to go away, to quit ruining things. He can see the way Ranboo's shoulders droop at being caught.

"No. All good." He says instead.

"'Kay." And then there's a shuffle. "Door-jam's in." And the door closes.

Tubbo looks back at Ranboo, the nervous way he's stubbing out the joint. Twisting, twisting, twisting it into the concrete. "I'm sorry for ah," Ranboo gulps. "That."

"Are you?" Tubbo wets his lips. "I'm not."

"Oh. Oh, no then I'm definitely not." And then Tubbo is engulfed in warmth as Ranboo presses a kiss against his lips. "Not sorry." There's a kiss on his jaw that slides down to his neck. It tickles and Ranboo's hand steadies him, cupping his face. He grins and Ranboo kisses the smile off him.

"Good."

**Author's Note:**

> here you go theatre kids :) please leave me comments they keep me going and kudos too


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